Light flew up the walls. For a second, the pattern on the floor flashed bright purple, encasing us in a box of violet energy. It sucked the silver away. Chal dove to cover Quet as a second arrow pierced the black window. This time, the block shattered. Arrows poured in. These ones weren't silver, but they still exploded, spraying us with splinter shrapnel with the speed at which they hit the walls.

I grabbed Jem, screaming, and we scrambled to the side of the room under the open window. Tezcat had his hands to the floor. Xolotl scampered onto the chair-back with sparks snapping between his fingers. Chal sent a flood out the window, then jumped back as Xolotl electrified it. I heard screams. Tlaloc stomped and clapped a rhythm, chanting in a roar that carried the foreboding of a coming thunderstorm. As it built to its peak, the house trembled. The whitewater rumble of a downpour rolled down outside.

"Get back!" roared Tlaloc to the rest of us.

Chal landed like a cat on the floor opposite Tezcat and copied his position. Blue-green threads doubled the faltering purple cage. Arrows that reached the window shattered on impact. We ran to the back of the room as Tlaloc lifted a staff that had materialized in his hands. It crackled with blinding white energy as he brought it down on the windowsill.

I had never seen lightning move like it did in that instant. The ground outside and everything above lit up with a sheet of pure electricity: a spider's web that spanned trees, plants, rocks, and the rain itself. When the storm died, it left silence behind. Tlaloc spun around and thumped his staff down upright in the middle of the room. Any gods who could stand grabbed hold of it. They lifted it together and slammed its end to the floor, and the room flashed white.

Like I had on my first teleportation experience, I fell over when the floor reappeared. Tezcat did, too, and didn't bother getting up again. We all stayed where we were until Chal had taken over the spell that guarded the room. A blue-green block replaced the shattered black one in the window. When that was in place, everyone except Tlaloc sank down on the rug or the couches. The rain god circled the room, grumbling as he waved nicks in the stone and small drifts of arrow wood out of existence.

Were we safe? Dear gods, if we weren't safe yet, I was going to scream at him for caring about something so trivial when mine and my friends' lives were in danger. I did a quick inventory of the other gods' reactions. They had all relaxed.

"Tlaloc, pillow?" said Chal.

He tossed them one. Chal and Xipe helped Tezcat to a couch. He rolled over and pulled the pillow over his head.

"Tlaloc, for gods' sake, you can clean up after. Come help."

Tlaloc switched the grumbles to his glaring sister, but he helped dry, mend and settle everyone before going back to inspecting couches. The room fell into silence save for his surprisingly quiet footsteps. Jem was still beside me and I was too shaken to care, so I leaned my head on his shoulder until my ears stopped ringing. He put his arm around me. Emma across from us was so pale, she looked ill.

"That was easier than last time," said Xipe, breaking the silence.

There was a muffled, "Speak for yourself," from Tezcat's pillow.

Gods, how often did they do this, that Xipe could brush it off so easily? Coyol was out to kill them. I'd thought I was going to die.

"No, Xipe's right," said Chal. "Tezcat, you just held an entire half-moon ward on your own for most of that battle. Last time that took both of us, and we still barely managed it. And we didn't even have Quet this time."

I recalled Tlaloc saying something about how he and Quet would be the last remaining gods as others succumbed to loss of power. Just what the scrawny, feather-haired god could do to rival what I'd just seen from Tlaloc was beyond me.

Xolotl had embedded himself on Tlaloc's chair next to his twin and Chimalli. He tapped for his other dogs, then reached down and put a hand on each of their heads. Huitecoya stood solemn and Tochtli wagged furiously. After a few seconds, Xolotl drew back, ringed both dogs with gold fire, and disappeared them. Grifo whined at the sudden loss of his friends.

Exhaustion lay like a blanket over the room. Xipe had what looked like a telepathic wrestling match with Tlaloc, and got the rain god to conjure up bowls, spoons, and the table he had brought here yesterday. The golden god set about filling the bowls with a black bean and sweet potato soup that made the room smell like Grillo Negro on a feast day. Only Tezcat didn't move as the food was distributed. The rest of us ate in silence. I could hardly believe it was only lunchtime.

When the others had finished, Chal set her clean bowl on the table. "Alright. Tlaloc, how many did we get this time?"

"At least four," rumbled Tlaloc.

"The dogs are confirming," said Xolotl without giving up a good impression of sleep.

Chal conjured herself a mug of tea and curled up on the couch with it. "Assuming four, that brings them down to... gods, I've lost count. Help?"

"A hundred and eighty-two."

Heads twitched around. Relieved grins broke the tension in the room.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," said Chal.

Quet winced as he attempted to shift positions. "No jokes, please. I'm not ready to give Mictlantecuhtli that satisfaction."

God of the underworld, said Tezcat's voice in my head. I was surprised he was still awake. The one those two stole bones from.

Thank you.

Tezcat rolled over and lobbed his pillow lazily at Quet. It reappeared and fell back on his head.

"I saw a finger twitch," said the night god. "For shame."

"Take an arrow and then we'll talk." Quet let his twin help him up, then put his head on Xolotl's shoulder when sitting proved to be too much effort. Chimalli rearranged herself across both of their feet.

Chal accepted a steaming mug and passed it to Xochi, who still had the look of someone coming down sick. She accepted it.

"How is it?" said Chal, concerned.

"Manageable," replied the other goddess. "We didn't get through the full spell, but enough to last a while."

Tezcat didn't explain this time, leaving me to guess what the spellcasting I had interrupted had been for.

Chimalli woofed. Xolotl cast gold fire again, and his dogs reappeared like they had never left. He touched their heads. "All five."

"A hundred and eighty-one," said Quet with a yawn. He accepted the mug passed him. The jar with the glyph-threats stood empty on the table. "Thank you. Oh, no... was it another village?"

Others nodded mutely. Quet crinkled his nose as he sipped the full mug.

"So, back to the Centzon Huītznāuhtin," said Chal. "And that attack."

"It's been a while since she had the guts to come looking for us here," said Tezcat.

"I'm concerned that they managed to find the house without any spellcasters. And attacking when there were only five of them was either bold or reckless, given what happened last time she tried to approach us in Tlalocan."

"Or intentional. I wouldn't be surprised if she sent those five as bait to test us. She's gotten keen on sacrificing her dwindling troops lately."

Chal tapped her fingers against the pottery mug. "If that's the case, that would mean she got the idea that we're not as invulnerable in Tlalocan as we used to be. Which on one hand is true, but on the other... how?"

"She probably thought she got Quet." Tezcat grabbed the last bowl from the table and flopped back on his pillow with it. He ignored Tlaloc's glare as the soup came dangerously close to spilling. "And underestimated Tlaloc, given that he didn't do much last time."

Someone snorted. "He didn't have to."

"Well, we've given her a power gauge now," said Chal. "Which I would have hoped not to. It'll be harder to take out Centzon Huītznāuhtin if she sends them in appropriate numbers and properly armed."

"All because Tlaloc got upset over stars in his garden," said Tezcat, nibbling a cube of sweet potato.

The rain god's look turned thunderous.

"Tlaloc, he's pushing your buttons," said Chal. "For the last time, ignore it. Tezcat, if you've got nothing helpful to say, fill your face."

Tezcat smirked. He waited until Tlaloc gave him a last glare and lowered his hand, then loaded a bean onto his spoon and flicked it at Quet. It reversed directions. He stopped it before it hit his face and popped it in his mouth, then spat it out. It had been filled with chili seeds. It was Quet's turn to snicker.

Chal set her mug down very deliberately and leaned back with her hands over her face. "Are we almost ready to talk seriously."

"Xipe, cacáhuatl?" said Tezcat.

The golden god glanced at Chal, then conjured a mug filled with the same frothy, rich drink he had treated us to on our first day here. Maybe it was a bid to shut Tezcat up. It worked, at least. The night god settled back with his mug and caused no more disruptions as Chal brought the topic back to the attack.

"So how are we going to deal with this?"

"Well, it goes both ways for us now," said Xochi. "Coyol saw what Tlaloc can still do on his own territory, but she probably also thinks she got Quet, like Tezcat said. So we've still got one big surprise in our pockets. And five less Centzon Huītznāuhtin."

"More than expected, less than hoped." Chal fiddled with a tassel on a shawl I hadn't seen her conjure about her shoulders. "Especially for what it cost."

"Stop being a downer, sis," said Tezcat. "We've got a supposed-to-be-incapacitated Quet, we've got Itztia back, and if I can hold a half-moon ward alone now, we've got that."

"That's true..."

More than a few eyes drifted to Jem and I. I shifted uncomfortably as the telltale silence of telepathy circled the room.

Tezcat stretched out. "Hey. They're right here. The least we can do is talk about them to their faces."

Several siblings looked embarrassed.

"You're right," said Chal. "Sorry. But you three... are you thinking of staying?"

We nodded, Emma for herself and Jem for us. I couldn't bring myself to do it. If it wasn't for this gods-damned Fuego issue, I'd have left already.

Chal looked relieved. "I think you'll be helpful to have around."